


R-R-Riot!

by OssaCordis



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, Humor, Prison, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OssaCordis/pseuds/OssaCordis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“… there is no prison in which we could incarcerate Sherlock without causing a riot on a daily basis.”</p><p>  <i>Written for a prompt on the kink meme.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	R-R-Riot!

**Author's Note:**

> From [this](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/21766.html?thread=129644806#t129644806) prompt! Timeline for CAM’s death is from the Baker Street Wikia.

**Excerpt from _The Daily Mail_ (2 February 2015)**

_Boffin Sherlock Holmes, the private detective, web phenomenon, and favoured fodder for tabloid discussion, was sentenced today to 2 years for the manslaughter of media magnate Charles Augustus Magnussen on Christmas day of last year. Spokesmen for Magnussen’s extended family declared that they were outraged by the court’s leniency and would appeal the decision. There was no comment from either Holmes or his legal team._

_As readers will recall, Holmes faked his own death in 2011, and returned to great acclaim in 2013. There were no charges filed because Holmes attempted neither to defraud clients nor evade taxes throughout that time period._

* * *

**Week 1**

“Really, Dr Watson.” Mycroft set his cup in his saucer and smiled as winningly as he could. It was a strained, shark-like expression that sent shivers down John’s spine. “I assure you that twenty-four months in jail is precisely what my brother needs. Indeed, he was lucky to be given such a light sentence. His legal team was excellent. I would know; I hand-picked them.”

“But he’s going to go mad in there! He’ll… he’ll get on the wrong side of the wrong person, and be… be… be shivved, or something!”

“Shivved?” Mycroft said, with a touch of disdain creeping into his voice.

“Stabbed. Have his head bashed in. Or worse.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

John frowned, a heavy, anxious furrow across his brow. “I don’t know…”

“If you would take my advice – which you never do – I would suggest that you go home to your wife and your child, and put all of this out of your mind until Sherlock is released in two years. That’s certainly what I will attempt to do, at any rate.”

* * *

**Week 6  
Excerpt from HM Prison Pentonville Incident Report**

Name of officer filing report:  
L. George Harold, senior guard

Names of prisoners involved in incident:  
1\. William Sherlock Scott Holmes  
2\. Michael Joseph Avery

Location of incident:  
Third storey communal bathroom

Date and time of incident:  
27 March 2015, 19:57

Brief description of incident:  
According to eyewitness accounts and video footage, Avery approached Holmes in the showers, began to make crude hand gestures, and asked Holmes if he “liked it up the arse with that doctor bloke what I seen you hang out with in the newspaper” (see attached interview with prisoner Alexander Dean Brown for full eyewitness account). Holmes then deduced from Avery’s tattoos and the shape of his wet footprints that Avery had been imprisoned for car theft, suggested that he was a closeted bisexual, and implicated him in the unsolved murder of Elaine McKerr in July 2009 (see attached report from New Scotland Yard; merits further investigation). Holmes then head-butted Avery in the chest, cracking three of Avery’s ribs and resulting in an emergency trip to the A&E (see attached medical report from St Pancras Hospital).

* * *

**Week 8**

“What the bloody fuck is that fuck-awful fuckin’ noise?”

“That’s a violin, mate. Sounds like Strauss to me.”

“Strauss?”

“German Composer. Quite good. Wrote a lot of waltzes.”

“‘ow the fuck do you know that?”

“Me mum used to like him. She had a whole cardboard box filled with LPs of his music when I was a lad. We listened to them on Sunday, after church, like.”

“Well, why the fuck is there a fuckin’ violin playin’ fuckin’ Strauss when I am bloody TRYIN’ TO WATCH FUCKIN’ WEST HAM VERSUS FUCKIN’ EVERTON?”

“That’s Sherlock Holmes, like. I heard a guard say he has special permission to have a violin in here ‘cause he was driving everyone mad, like, without anything to do. They figured it was better to just give him a violin, than let him incite a riot, like.”

“I’LL FUCKIN’ STRANGLE HIM!”

“Oh, I dunno. I think it’s quite nice. Bit of culture, you know?”

* * *

**Week 13**

“I’m terribly sorry, could you repeat that?”

The woman on the other end of the line cleared her throat, and Mycroft could just make out the sound of hands (no wedding ring, one plain band – possibly platinum – on her right middle finger) being smoothed over a document (printed on 100% cotton paper, watermarked, 90.3 gsm).

“Your brother was found wandering the corridor after lights out last night in Pentonville. They believe he picked the lock to his cell, somehow. It’s difficult to make out on the video footage how he did it, and he refuses to answer any questions.”

“How intriguing,” Mycroft said with a yawn.

“Mr Holmes, your brother is a terrible nuisance. He provokes the other prisoners. He blackmails his way into getting whatever he wants. He made a man serving time for quadruple murder _cry_ last week.”

“I really fail to see how any of this is my business.”

“He’s your brother!”

“And he is currently in the capable hands of the state. Well, when I say _capable_ …”

The woman made some unpleasant sputtering noises, which Mycroft ignored, choosing instead to hang up the phone. Then, he stretched a little in his desk chair, and allowed himself a small smile. Sherlock was someone else’s problem now. How delightful.

He felt so thoroughly pleased with himself that he allowed himself an extra _two_ biscuits when Anthea brought him his afternoon tea.

* * *

**Week 17  
Excerpt from _The Guardian_ (22 May 2015)**

_Sherlock Holmes, currently under incarceration for the manslaughter of Charles Augustus Magnussen, has had his sentence shortened by two months for helping to break up a drug smuggling ring within Pentonville Prison. Cocaine and marijuana, among other drugs, were being smuggled into the jail by an educator coordinating a remedial maths and reading programme for prisoners._

_DI Gregory Lestrade from New Scotland Yard praised Holmes’ involvement, saying, “Sherlock has been a useful resource for the detectives at Scotland Yard for many years, and I am grateful that he was willing and able to help us with this investigation.”_

* * *

**Week 20**  
 **Excerpt from HM Prison Pentonville Incident Report**

Name of officer filing report:  
James P. Morrison, guard

Names of prisoners involved in incident:  
1\. William Sherlock Scott Holmes

Location of incident:  
Kitchen/dining facility

Date and time of incident:  
13 June 2015, 12:09

Brief description of incident:  
Prisoner Holmes accused the kitchen catering staff of serving non-Halal meat in the Halal chicken curry at lunch. This upset a number of prisoners, who threw their food across the room and began to threaten the kitchen staff. Several fights broke out between prisoners, which developed into a large-scale brawl (53 people involved) which was broken up by guards. Kitchen employee Jamie Clarke was so upset by the incident that she has filed for time off and is now seeking professional help for anxiety.

* * *

**Week 22**

“How’s he doing, love?”

John shrugged. “He’s restless and bored and unhappy, and he’s making everyone around him miserable.”

Mary squeezed one of John’s hands and gave a small, half-hearted grin. “So, same as usual?”

John laughed a little. “Yeah, I suppose. Happy enough to see me. He doesn’t get a lot of visitors. I think Molly went to see him once, and his parents… Lestrade goes fairly often. But I don’t think Mycroft goes at all, which is understandable.”

Mary moved a little closer and rested her head on John’s chest. “We owe him so much.”

“I know,” John sighed. “He’s going to be properly insufferable when he finally gets out.”

“We’ll just have to find him a seriously gruesome case to make it up to him.”

“Mmm… did you see the one about the supposed chupacabra in New Mexico? God, he’d love that. I hope it stays unsolved for another year or two, until he gets out…”

* * *

**Week 24 – Part 1**

Mycroft barely skimmed his weekly report on Sherlock’s activities in Pentonville. Since the kitchen riot (which, goodness knows, Mycroft had heard more than enough about from far too many sources), he had been remarkably quiet. Most of his free time lately had been spent perusing medical texts from the prison library, or freshening up his written Mandarin abilities. He seemed to finally be settling in, for better or worse.

Mycroft gave the report another, brief glance, and then something horrible caught his eye.

_Holmes, according to my sources, has made a friend. Daniel Davies is a multilingual, ex-RAF officer with highly technical expertise in creating counterfeit money. He and Holmes spend hours together discussing the best ways to swindle money and create fake identities._

That really wouldn’t do at all. Sherlock, making _friends_? Really, one John Watson-type in Sherlock’s life was quite nearly too much already. This Davies fellow… no, this had to stop. Right now.

* * *

**Week 24 – Part 2**

Sherlock turned his face up to the unusually sunny London sky and smiled. It was the same sky inside the prison as outside, but… it was still different, on the outside.

“Your sentence is being commuted.”

“Yes, I know.”

Mycroft ground his cigarette into the pavement outside of Pentonville Prison. “Not because of good behaviour.”

“Really? I thought I was proving to be a _splendid_ example of reform.”

If Mycroft could have pressed his lips into an even thinner and more disapproving line, he surely would have. “You never liked Daniel Davies. He was just a means to an end, wasn’t he?”

“Who?”

“Ex-RAF… charlatan… you apparently spent hours chatting with him… making _friends_ …” He spat the last word out like a curse.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to delete him, Mycroft. You’re just making it more difficult on purpose, aren’t you?”

“I would _never_ do such a thing. Not to my wonderfully manipulative little brother who feels no remorse whatsoever about shooting a man at point blank range in the head.”

Sherlock gave an annoyingly bright smile. “You were secretly pleased that I shot him.”

Mycroft gave a tight smile in return. “It served a purpose. And, no, I was not _pleased_. Seeing you shoot someone was… quite distressing.”

Sherlock shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and looked anywhere but at Mycroft’s face. “You understood why, though, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So, we’re even.”

“Never.”

“I don’t want to ride back to Baker Street. I’ll catch a cab. I’ll walk. The tube, even. Anything but your car.”

“No chance of that happening. You owe me _at least_ one case for getting you out of jail. Anthea has the details and your flight arrangements in the car.”

There was a fidgety, unhappy pause as Sherlock mulled this over. “Is it a murder?”

“An assassination.”

“South America.”

“Central.”

“Panama.”

“No. And I can see you were starting to become intellectually unfit in jail, brother mine,” Mycroft smirked.

Sherlock, for once, ignored the barb. “John’s coming with me.”

“If you insist.”

Sherlock trailed Mycroft back to the car. “It wasn’t that bad, you know. Being in prison.”

“Mmm,” Mycroft hummed doubtfully. “You were only in for six months. And, they were careful not to put you with anyone you helped incarcerate. I can have you sent back, if you like… the Magnussen family would be so pleased if I did.”

“No, not necessary,” Sherlock said, rather quickly.

Mycroft, his face turned away from Sherlock, simply smiled.

 


End file.
